Possession Arc: Book III: Relinquish the Soul
by The Manwell
Summary: It started out as just another assignment for Duo, Trowa, and Heero. And then things went very, very wrong. Sequel to Savor the Darkness. Language, angst, sensuality, shounen ai. Complete.
1. One

**Relinquish the Soul**

A Gundam Wing Fan Fiction by The Manwell

Sequel to _Savor the Darkness_

**- One -**

**It all goes to shit** not a half dozen yards inside the building perimeter.

"Maxwell! We have your team surrounded! Disarm yourselves and surrender immediately!"

Duo Maxwell's soft grunt of amusement doesn't traverse the distance between himself and the Zanoah security force. "Just like the good ol' days, eh guys?" he mutters through and expression that would have been a smile if he'd chosen to show one or two fewer teeth.

"Do you think we've lost our touch?" he continues, tone amicable, into the small comm. piece connecting Heero, Trowa, and himself.

"That depends..." Trowa replies in his ever-mellow voice.

"... on if you're actually considering surrendering to these morons," Heero finishes on a derisive note.

Duo almost laughs. Instead, he inhales an amused breath. "Well, I certainly don't have to ask where you two stand on this one."

"Our preference is fairly obvious," Trowa agrees.

In his usual abrupt and concise manner, Heero contributes his opinion with a simple snort of concurrence.

"Well, then. Let's give these folks their money's worth, gentlemen."

With that, Duo takes a centering lungful of stale, warehouse air around the wide, adrenalin-fueled grin stretching his lips. Precisely thirty-four point eight feet away, the Zanoah security officer starts to repeat his announcement.

He isn't given the chance to complete it a second time.

The officer goes down in an uncontrolled tumble of limbs as the tranquilizer shot finds his torso.

Duo meticulously picks off a second over-confident security officer even as he takes note of two others falling to Heero and Trowa's opening volley. His Owneds' contributions go unnoticed for a small sliver of a moment as the security force instinctively turns their attentions in Duo's direction. He ducks back behind the battered forklift he's appropriated for cover as Zanoah's welcoming party opens fire.

Despite the echoing explosions of gunshots, Duo hears two more bodies hit the proverbial deck via somewhat less-than-graceful swan dives before the remaining resistance wises up and acknowledges the additional active threats from Trowa and Heero.

Unfortunately for the home team, their necessary reallocation of attention distracts them away from Duo's position. Taking his chance, Duo ghosts away from the forklift and takes up a new position several yards away behind a pallet of automotive parts.

Crouching low and aiming up, Duo utilizes his improved vantage point and opens fire once again. Momentarily surprised by the unanticipated shift of enemy fire, two men go down at Duo's insistence and the remaining few are successfully caught by Trowa and Heero's precision marksmanship.

The entire event takes less than seven seconds.

"Not bad, boys," Duo drawls, savoring the flavor of the firefight on his tongue. Still wearing that hard smile, he continues, "Now comes the _big_ question–"

"Crank open the can o' whoop ass..." Trowa affects in a bored tone.

"... or knock politely?" Heero finishes with an audible smirk.

Duo allows himself the laugh this time.

"Right, then," he agrees as he moves toward the next phase of their objective. "Lock and load."

He can sense Heero and Trowa still under cover but moving with him closer to the door they'd previously determined to be their best choice. Pressed against the wall, gun at the ready, Duo works his magic on the control panel and the door whispers open.

Instantly, all three of them are in motion, moving as one into the hall. They can hear the approaching footsteps of reinforcements and begin their soundless race toward their goal.

Consumed with the intensity of the mission, Duo momentarily forgets the mysterious pain and exhaustion of the previous months. He even manages to ignore the suspicion and its accompanying dread that he'd somehow botched the Owning ritual months before. Now there is only the assignment before them. The challenges and the obstacles and the need to exceed and even defy the expectations of the enemy.

It's just as well the United Sphere Disarmament had made deadly weapons illegal because Duo is incapable of holding himself back. He leads his team through the twisting maze of hallways, mindful of the cameras and keeping an eye on Trowa who had been appointed with memorizing their timings. Heero watches their trail while Duo scans ahead and Trowa indicates when it is safe to move into a camera's blind spot.

With a wry grin, Duo wonders how they'd managed to win the war without this kind of teamwork. Looking back, he can see what a bloody miracle it had been.

And if they'd pulled off the biggest cease-fire in history all on their lonesomes, then it's no surprise that cracking this nut of a Preventer base _together_ is almost insultingly easy.

Almost.

Duo can't find it in himself to feel insulted at the improved-but-still-sloppy organization of security. In this moment he's supremely proud of his Owned. Of the connection that they share together. Of the force they can _become_ together.

"Focus," Heero grates into the comm. and Duo acknowledges the accuracy of the dig.

"Have I told you guys yet today that I couldn't live withoutcha?" Duo whispers back on a smile.

"We know," Trowa tells him and together they move forward around yet another corner.

Struck with an inexplicable urge, Duo finds himself promising, "I'll take you both out for ice cream when we win this one."

"Never been in Little League before..." Trowa muses as he gives the signal to halt where they are, just out of camera range.

Heero grumpily declines to comment but Duo doesn't hold it against him. The comment _had_ been pretty stupid. Later, Duo knows he'll blame it on the adrenalin and Heero will moodily roll his eyes but the effect will be ruined by the vanilla ice cream cone clutched his hand.

They're two security cameras away from their objective when Zanoah resistance finally stumbles across them. Heero gives a curt gesture of warning and all three of them dive for separate locations in preparation for the hostile exchange. Heero and Trowa counter the resistance with a gun in each hand as the three of them hasten their pace, the timing of the security cameras now a moot point.

Reserving his own attention and gun for what may come at them from the opposite direction, Duo relies completely on his Owned to handle the force surging through the hall in their wake. He leans around the next corner of a three-way intersection and immediately dodges a shot coming from a soldier in position at the next juncture.

This guy is pretty good for a change and Duo discovers himself held up for more than two whole seconds. Without having to divert his attention, he knows precisely when Trowa's focus switches from the battle he and Heero are winning to this new threat.

Duo doesn't have to ask Trowa to lay down cover fire. Their target is in sight. All Duo needs is three uninterrupted seconds and the game will be theirs. And despite Trowa Barton's unassuming silence, the man thirsts to win just as passionately as Duo and Heero do.

On Trowa's third try, he manages to catch the Zanoah uniform in the shoulder and Duo leaps into the hall before the man's unconscious body can be dragged out of the way by a comrade and his position replaced by reinforcements.

Disregarding the sounds of battle around him, disregarding the fact that he is completely exposed in his current predicament, disregarding the glares he's destined to receive from his Owned when this is all over, Duo falls onto the control panel and with dexterous fingertips, hacks the code.

It takes two point eight seconds.

With a smirk of triumph, Duo slides through the doorway as it whispers open. He can feel the twin presences of Trowa and Heero behind him, laying down cover fire but Duo only has eyes for what lies ahead of him.

He doesn't try to erase the smug, predatory grin from his face. He's earned this moment. And, with a single raised brow, the commander of the Preventer Zanoah Base endures his satisfaction. She regards the barrel of the gun currently aimed at her throat and admits her defeat with a surprising lack of resentment.

"Attention all units: stand down immediately."

The door to the room doesn't slide closed but all sounds of gunfire cease within the second. Duo trusts Heero and Trowa to keep and eye on their recent combatants just as they trust him to deal with the leader of this remote Preventer division.

The moment of heavy silence stretches until a slight twitch of a smile along the woman's lips precedes her smoothly delivered congratulations. "Duo Maxwell. It appears you've bested my security teams yet again."

High on victory, Duo drawls, "Yeah... one might think you're not taking us seriously, ma'am."

"Would I be such a fool?" she inquires with mild amusement.

"It would be presumptuous of me in the extreme to speculate on that one way or the other, ma'am."

She actually smiles at him. "That it would be, Mr. Maxwell." She takes a moment to sweep her gaze down his lean figure and Duo senses the frank appreciation in that look. "You're quite impressive. A credit to your profession."

For an instant, Duo revels in the acknowledgement, but the sensation of his Owned slowly relaxing their guards, coaxes a small hesitation into his thoughts. He briefly wonders why the commander isn't extending her praise to his companions as well but dismisses the speculation. After all, Heero and Trowa don't enjoy playing word games with their contractors. That's Duo's kink.

Gaze shrewd and speculative, the commander inquires in a light tone, "I don't suppose I could interest you and your team in a permanent position here with the Preventers?"

Duo affects a tragic sigh. "I'm afraid we're too enamored of our irresponsible ways."

"And like any other typically idealistic youth, no amount of money could persuade you." She concludes Duo's refusal in a flat tone but her eyes are sparkling.

"Try us again when we hit our mid-thirties," Duo advises. With a roguish grin, he tells her, "I believe this concludes our business today. As always, our services will be available if you feel the need to test security again in the future."

"I appreciate the offer, Mr. Maxwell."

With a nod, Duo starts to turn. He catches the amused gleam in Trowa's green eyes from where the man stands just behind him and to his right.

"But our business has not been concluded," the commander softly corrects him.

And their moment of triumph evaporates in less than a single second.

Duo turns, lifting his own gun even as he catches the gleam of a gun barrel arcing in his direction. Placing himself between the bullet and his Owned, Duo faces down the hardened expression of the commander. Behind him, he knows Trowa and Heero are reaching for their own firearms, but they are cornered and outnumbered. Even as he is determined to face this new twist, Duo knows there is very little he can do.

Still, the sound of the single gunshot is a shock.

When Duo takes his next breath, he finds himself leaning heavily back against Trowa's chest with the man's arms wrapped around him. He blinks down at the tranquilizer dart protruding from his chest. He knows he only has a few seconds before the drug overwhelms him.

"That," he tells her, "was a mistake."

"Time shall tell," she replies without much concern. "But for now, your teammates will cooperate unless they wish to see you receive a lethal dose of sedatives, Mr. Maxwell."

The still-warm barrel of her gun remains trained upon him, steady and sure.

And there is nothing Duo can do. As the sedative begins to weaken him, he leans his head back against Trowa's shoulder. He struggles to keep his eyes open, battles to communicate his apologies. He has failed to protect his Owned. This is unforgivable.

But instead of catching his eye, Trowa gazes fixedly at the commander. From his vantage point, Duo can see the hard lines of Trowa's enraged yet deceptively silent visage. And he can see both of Trowa's green eyes beneath his unruly hair.

And it must be an effect of the drugs, but as Duo starts to go under, he thinks he sees something completely alien flicker from within those eyes. Something bright and dangerous. Something born of infinite power and cruelty.

But Duo's contemplation of it is forced aside as the tranquilizer accomplishes its purpose and drags him under completely.

**End of Chapter One**


	2. Two

**Relinquish the Soul**

A Gundam Wing Fan Fiction by The Manwell

Sequel to _Savor the Darkness_

**- Two -**

"**We're moving out,"** Rashid commands without looking up from the computer screen. The data Abdul had managed to decode stares back at him, defiant and unchanging.

"But, sir, I've detected a satellite signal focused on our location. It very well may be that Zanoah is watching us."

Rashid straightens. "It makes little difference. We have sworn to protect Master Quatre. We will be airborne in thirty minutes."

There is no disgruntled muttering in the wake of this declaration. Even though everyone is fighting their own private battles against exhaustion they are all aware that they have lingered here too long. And there will be no rest until they have returned to their rightful place at Master Quatre's side.

"Notify the rest of our brothers," Rashid commands softly. "Anyone not on the shuttle two minutes prior to takeoff will be spending an unexpected vacation here with only the dead for company."

Immediately, everyone except himself and Abdul leaps into action. Rashid retains his seat, resolutely absorbing the data before him just in case there might be a moment in the immediate future when the knowledge will prove useful. Time ceases to pass for Rashid as he feeds his mind with the nefarious plans in which his brethren, the Bedouin, had so recklessly indulged.

He feels his fingers curl into fists at the evidence of their betrayal and knows that if Master Quatre had not eliminated the threat of them, Rashid would have done so himself. And _his_ methods would not have been as merciful as Master Quatre's.

"Sir."

Rashid looks and is satisfied to note that several of his brethren are moving through the room, carefully sorting and packaging the evidence they'd gathered. After all, they cannot afford to leave anything behind that might reveal either Master Quatre's or Master Duo's true natures.

"If you still want to be in the air within the half-hour, we need to begin loading the shuttle."

Rashid nods at the man's words and gets to work himself. He directs the men to begin the trek to the shuttle and begin warming the engines. After the room has emptied of everyone but himself and Abdul, he hears the other man's voice softly enunciating, "They'll be sure to know we're on the move, sir."

"We have no other options, Abdul. Master Quatre needs us."

"I am not arguing with you, sir," the other man points out. "But this place is not only a city. It's a fortress. We could, perhaps, redirect their attention while we slip away..."

"That could take hours to set up. We don't have that kind of time." Taking a moment to absorb the tomb-like silence of the city around them, Rashid concludes sadly, "I find it unlikely that we ever did."

"But–"

"No. We will leave now. This is my decision. Abide by it."

"Of course, sir. I'm..." A brief flash across the screen in front of Abdul draws his attention. "What in the...?"

"What is it?" Rashid demands, bracing himself for the next serving of undoubtedly bad news.

After a few experimental pecks at the keyboard, Abdul shakes his head in stunned bewilderment. "It seems that an attempt at redirection would be redundant anyway."

Rashid takes a step closer in order to get a good look at the screen.

Abdul supplies, utterly confused, "It appears as if all communications from Zanoah have ceased."

"Ceased?" Rashid repeats carefully.

Abdul nods. "I'm looking at a dead zone, sir."

Rashid's expression tightens. "Let us hope that is not an apt and literal description, Abdul." He notices the sudden pallor of the man's face but does not comment. After all, words take time to utter and time is something Rashid is beginning to fear they have now lost irrevocably.

oooOOOooo

"**_No."_**

That is all he can say when faced with Zanoah. That is all he can say to articulate the churning shock and fear and dread blossoming with reckless pain beneath his breastbone.

Wufei Chang finds himself mesmerized by what had once been a formidable Preventer base stationed in the unforgiving wilderness of the desert. Hundreds of agents dedicated to the peace had performed their duties here. Thousands of lives had depended on the information this place had gathered, analyzed, and distributed.

But no more.

Now only smoke and rubble remain.

There are so many questions he hardly knows where to start. Should he begin with wondering about the fate of Duo, Heero, and Trowa? With wondering how this could have happened in the first place? The identity of the catalyst? Who should be notified?

For the first time in his known life, Wufei is overwhelmed into indecision.

It's the sound of a car door slamming shut that brings him back into focus. He watches as Quatre wades toward to the charred ruin, unmindful of his pale, pristine clothing.

It seems so surreal that Quatre Winner, now a man of dark and potentially deadly cravings and instincts, still prefers light cottons in pastel shades. Aren't vampires supposed to wear black vinyl and whatnot?

A knock on his window startles Wufei from his completely random, shock-induced thoughts.

"Get out here," Quatre tells him through the glass. "Smell this."

Scowling, Wufei draws in a deep breath. It's time to pull himself together. There's a situation to be unraveled here.

"What is it?" he growls, stepping out of the car.

"Smell the air," Quatre directs yet again.

Wufei does so.

"There's no gunpowder..." Quatre continues.

"Or C4..." Wufei finishes. In fact, there is nothing but the scent of spent fire. His frown deepens. "An electrical fire?"

Quatre wanders even closer to the ruins. "The place was solid concrete," he differs.

Wufei shakes his head in bewilderment at the lack of an obvious accelerant lingering in the air. With destruction of this magnitude, there _ought_ to be _something._

"Wufei."

Looking up, he meets Quatre's gaze with his own. Standing thus in the sun with his dark sunglasses shoved hastily up into his hair, Quatre is an unexpected vision. Golden and pale and forthright.

"We need to figure out what started this and if the others were inside when it happened."

Wufei nods. "Perhaps if we can locate the surveillance operations room –"

"That will take hours, maybe even days."

"Then what are you suggesting?" Wufei demands, crossing his arms over his chest as he senses a highly unpleasant alternative on Quatre's mind.

"Meditate."

Wufei's jaw clenches. "You must believe me to be an utter idiot if you think I'm going to –"

"We don't have the time to do this any other way."

"And the last time I meditated in your presence –"

"I _know_ what almost happened, all right? I was _there_!"

For a moment, Wufei is startled by Quatre's outburst.

In a tone that's been forcibly softened, Quatre continues, "I can control it now. And I've fed recently. A lot. I won't harm you."

Wufei wavers.

"If you have another suggestion, I'd like to hear it," Quatre invites.

But he doesn't. Quatre is right. The other methods of investigation will take far too long. And they don't know what kind of time they have. They don't know what kind of shape the others are in... if they'd survived the destruction at all.

Decidedly unhappy, Wufei marches toward the only bare patch of earth within fifty feet. "All right. Just don't interrupt me, Winner." And with that, he seats himself on the hard-packed sand and clay, exchanges one deep breath for another, and closes his eyes.

He focuses on the soft but slightly quickened rhythm of his pulse and follows it through his veins back to his heart. There, his awareness sharpens until his entire world is darkness and drum beats. The fog of reality is burned away by the light of consciousness.

And he can only watch.

A flame... no, an _inferno_ such as he has never known, never witnessed or even conceived in his thoughts and dreams, erupts around him. He is the building itself, blistering and crumbling under the assault. He is the structure tumbling down around the hapless humans he has protected for years. Now he traps them, crushes them. And still the fire is not satisfied. It _rages_ with a mind of vengeance and anger of such intensity that it steals his breath away. And when all of the humans within the crumbling walls are silent, the fire is still not satisfied. It turns its intent to Wufei and he senses the likeness of a creature – a great winged serpent, a dragon of myth and legend – draw together its incredible power focus its gaze upon him and open its infinite, burning jaws. He is trapped. And he is staring into the abyss itself...

"Wufei!"

With a gasp of breath, Wufei lurches away from the strong hands curled painfully around his shoulders. Weak and still burning as if his own flesh had been set alight, he loses his balance and falls roughly to his side. He feels something rough scrape his arm and winces, knowing the skin there has been abraded raw. He drags in one cool breath after the other, soothing his seared throat and relaxes as Quatre makes no further efforts to touch him. Not that touch is a necessary component to Quatre's ability to feed.

"Are they dead?" the young man kneeling nearby finally asks.

Wufei struggles to find his voice but he's too exhausted. He can only shake his head but even then he's not completely sure of his answer. The feeling is too vague. He knows Duo, Trowa, and Heero had been here. That the existence of the fire is somehow related to their presence. That it had vanquished their enemies. But beyond that, Wufei can only guess; he had been completely overwhelmed by the sensation of the fire itself.

"Wufei..."

The young Preventer agent forces his eyes open for an instant. Through his blurred and watery vision, he reads Quatre's concern and urgency.

"Will you let me help you?"

He wants to ask how Quatre thinks he can help. How a vampire can banish exhaustion and pain except through death? But the vision has taken everything from him. Even the ability to respond. He's tied and trapped within the dizzy forerunner of unconsciousness and tries to summon a spark of adrenalin with which to fight it. But there is nothing.

And then there is light. So much light. And so white. A color so pure he'd only ever imagined it abstractly as the source of justice. And then there is a touch. A simple brush of warmth against his forehead. It ghosts down his sweat-beaded skin and stops between his eyes. And then...

Wufei's eyes fly open. He discovers himself reclining in Quatre's arms, watching as Quatre withdraws his fingers from where they had been hovering over Wufei's forehead. He's so startled to discover his strength and awareness restored that he doesn't push himself away. Instead, he remains perfectly still, regarding Quatre's somewhat dimmed sky-blue eyes. Perhaps it's his imagination but a few lines of strain seem to have suddenly appeared around the young man's mouth and eyes.

"What have you done?" Wufei hears himself ask, he barely recognizes the rusty sound as his own voice.

"I don't only have the power to _take_, Wufei," he replies softly.

Wufei stares until one corner of Quatre's mouth twitches upward.

"Come on. We have to track the others."

Reluctantly, Wufei abandons the subject of Quatre's abilities. But he saves the topic for a later discussion. Perhaps after Duo and the others have been found, they will have time. But not now.

Still somewhat off balance, it takes Wufei a moment to gain his feet. When he does so, he regards the horizon circling them in all directions. Very softly, he says, "They headed north."

Quatre nods. "North it is then. Shall I drive for a while?"

Wufei hesitates briefly as he steps toward the still idling car. He considers the offer but discards it. It seems strange after such a trauma to feel perfectly fine, but he _is _fine. "No. It'll be easier if I take the wheel."

"All right."

The tone of the other man's voice is softer somehow. Less dark, less dangerous. Wufei looks up over the roof of the car and thinks, startled, that his companion actually sounds like the Quatre Winner of old. His friend.

And over the roof of the car, Quatre meets his gaze with his own and offers up a small, very human smile.

oooOOOooo

**Heero says nothing** but he watches in the rear view mirror as Trowa takes great care in tucking one of the thermal blankets around Duo's still form. He does not meet Heero's eyes as he folds his arms and legs around Duo, cradling their unconscious Keeper with his lithe body.

Heero notes the light trembling of Trowa's hands thinks the gesture of comfort is as much for Trowa's own sake as it is for Duo's. And if this is the case, then Heero feels entitled to something reassuring himself. Thus, he indulges in the luxury of uttering the words that have been pressing against the back of his teeth since they'd escaped – all of them mysteriously unscathed – from the explosion of Zanoah:

"After Duo wakes up, I'll expect you to explain exactly what the fuck happened back there, Barton."

Still Trowa doesn't look in Heero's direction. He merely curls his head closer to Duo's soot-darkened braid and nods. Heero watches a moment more as the taller man tightens his hold on Duo. Then, with a silent sigh, Heero starts the engine of their Jeep and turns onto the faded ribbon of desert road.

**End of Chapter Two**


	3. Three

**Relinquish the Soul**

A Gundam Wing Fan Fiction by The Manwell

Sequel to _Savor the Darkness_

**- Three -**

"**Director Une,** this just came in. It's urgent."

The Acting Director of the United Earth Sphere Alliance Preventer Head Quarters Division looks up from the documents arranged neatly on her desk with an air of impatience. It seems to her that "urgent" is the magic word today. She's tempted to inform the messenger that he'd best take a number and get in line, but regretfully forces the words back. Such is the price of professionalism.

With an inaudible sigh, she accepts the sealed envelope. And she isn't pleased to note the Preventer Intelligence Department insignia embossed into the manila cardstock. Frowning, she tells the departing agent, "Close the door on your way out, Patterson."

"Of course, ma'am."

Resigned to nothing but bad news, Acting Director Une isn't as surprised as she could have been regarding the note's contents. Still, she certainly hadn't anticipated the magnitude of the disaster. She forces herself to read the report three times before opening up a secured vid feed channel.

"Agent Sam Riley here. Ah, Director Une. I see you got my note."

Knowing she must be the personification of pallor, she replies tightly, "Yes. I did. Very interesting. This should be looked into."

"Of course. I'll assemble a team immediately."

"I would appreciate it if your colleagues and yourself made discretion one of their top priorities in this matter."

"I understand, ma'am. I'll keep you informed of our progress."

"Very good, Agent Riley. Une out."

Shutting off the vid, Une glances down to the scrap of paper in her hand. It had once been last month's cafeteria lunch menu, but now it is the bearer of distressing news. But better this than a computer generated print-out which would have come from data stored in the Preventer network, accessible to innumerable people of various security clearances and agendas. At least now, Une has a chance to contain the situation. At least for a few precious hours.

And – hopefully – that's all the time Riley's team will need to identify the person or persons responsible for the complete and utter annihilation of the Zanoah base.

oooOOOooo

"**We're approaching** Zanoah air space, sir."

Rashid nods. "Good. Maintain course." He ignores the restless shifting of his blood brothers. He knows they are concerned about aggressively trespassing on Preventer territories. But if Rashid's suspicions are correct, then there will be no one to refuse them passage over the desert base.

Beside him, Abdul asks too softly for the others to hear, "You believe Master Quatre has already reached Zanoah, don't you?"

Thinking of the silent tombs that had once been a thriving Bedouin compound of commerce, Rashid nods. "It would explain the sudden cessation of surveillance activity."

Abdul nods although he does not look pleased. "Yes, that's true. But for Master Quatre's sake, I hope you're wrong."

Rashid nods back. "As do I, my friend. As do I."

"Sir! I have Zanoah on radar."

"Activate video feed," Rashid orders, reaching forward to turn on the vid screen at his command station. He knows the picture won't be very good. They're still significantly out of range for a good visual of their destination. But even though it's blurred and inconsistently buzzing with bursts of static, Rashid recognizes what he sees.

Over his shoulder, Abdul mutters a swift, short prayer for the dead. And there must be many, many dead. The kind of complete destruction that had recently visited the still-smoking ruins never leaves survivors. After fighting alongside Master Quatre in the Eve Wars, Rashid and his brothers all know this to be true.

Still, the question is hesitantly asked: "Sir, should we prepare to land?"

Rashid studies the sensor readings and slowly shakes his head. "There's no reason for us to linger here," he replies, saddened by the destruction before him. "Maintain heading and speed. We must find Master Quatre."

"Yes, sir."

"Let's hope he's still out there somewhere," Abdul murmurs under his breath.

Rashid hears him but says nothing in way of admonishment. "This explosion was recent. He can't be far. We'll find him soon."

There's a faithful – if half-hearted – chorus of "Yes, sir!" throughout the shuttle cockpit. But Rashid ignores the downtrodden tone. He will not reprimand them for expressing what he also feels. As a leader, it is his duty to lead by example. So he swallows his own foreboding and does exactly that.

oooOOOooo

**Wufei resists** the impulse to shift in his seat. Instead, he recurls his fingers around the steering wheel and stoically endures the heavy silence. He's no stranger to silence, certainly. Often it is his place of solace. But he finds no rest in this tense, thrumming quiet.

The engine is an insistent growl and the shards of loose gravel kicked up by the tires are memories of gunshots against the undercarriage. He scowls into the distance, trying to will the distance between him and Duo to shorten. Something had happened at that base. Something that defies human logic. Something so alien Wufei can barely withstand the faintest impression of it. And the feeling of dread that had stolen his breath when he'd seen the remains of Zanoah has not dissipated. Wufei wishes fervently that his previous attempts to call Duo's cell phone – as well as both Heero's and Trowa's – had been successful.

Somewhat reluctantly, he asks his companion, "Can you feel them at all?"

From the passenger seat, Quatre sighs. "It's faint," he replies in a tone of warning.

Wufei glances at him and commands, "Tell me."

The quick, wry look Quatre directs toward him is ignored. He states flatly, "Apprehension. I can't tell any more beyond that."

Wufei snorts out an unhappy breath and wishes he dared drive faster along the seldom-used desert road.

"Now it's your turn."

"What?" Wufei barks.

"What did you see at Zanoah? Why did your vision affect you like that?"

He's not sure he wants to discuss this with Quatre. Although the young man seems to have Duo's best interests in mind, Wufei is not comfortable giving voice to the impossibility he'd experienced. But he doesn't have the luxury of forgetting it. Grudgingly, he offers, "The fire... was not... random. It had," he sighs angrily, "a consciousness. Like something primitive. A predator."

Quatre frowns but says nothing.

Unable to endure the leaden silence, Wufei mutters, "But that isn't possible."

"Isn't it?" Quatre wonders aloud in a light tone. "Six months ago, you thought it wasn't possible for vampires to exist."

Wufei snorts. Glancing toward his passenger, he takes in the sight of Quatre's drawn and strained features. "Six months ago you didn't look like a vampire." He shakes his head and states blandly, "You look like hell, Winner."

"Ever the gentleman," Quatre mutters. And for an instant, it seems as if he's about to say something else, but in the end subsides.

After that indecisive moment, Wufei grudgingly suggests, "You should get some rest."

"I'm fine."

"No, you are not," he hears himself insisting. "You gave me too much energy and now you're exhausted."

Arcing a brow, Quatre smoothly offers, "I'll take some of it back if it's really bothering you that much..."

The predatory grin curving Quatre's lips forces a very slight but nervous shifting from Wufei's restless body. His scowl deepens and his grip on the steering wheel tightens. Seeing this, Quatre coughs out a sound that's almost a laugh and that seems to be enough to retire the darkness within.

He continues: "I'm a little tired, yes, but not exhausted." He rolls his head toward Wufei and grins invitingly. "It takes more than recharging _your_ batteries to bring me down."

The relaxed banter eases his white-knuckled grasp on the steering wheel. "Could have fooled me."

"This is a first. I usually can't fool you at all."

Wufei grunts. "Congratulations, Winner."

"Thank you, Chang."

The sound of his family name spoken in Quatre's voice unsettles him. He thinks that this is perhaps the first time Quatre has ever used it as a form of direct address. And he remembers a time when his first name had been irreverently used by this young man, countless times a day. And accompanied by a smile that had always forced Wufei to forgive him the transgression.

"Do you still remember what it was like to be friends?" someone asks. And it's not until a second voice answers that Wufei realizes he'd been the one to make the inquiry.

"That was a long time ago, it seems."

"Things have changed."

"Yes. Yes, they have."

Wufei once again tightens his hands around the wheel and resists the urge to articulate his dissatisfaction with the most recent changes. Now is not the time. And it only takes a brief reminder of the raging creature from his vision to sharpen his focus. Regrets, apologies, and might-have-beens will have to wait. He's far too wrapped up in the momentum of this mystery to juggle those emotions as well.

oooOOOooo

**Heero glances** in the rear view mirror and asks the question he already knows the unsatisfactory answer to: "Still no change?"

Trowa shakes his head. "No change."

Heero glowers at the road ahead and growls. Both he and Trowa know that their Keeper had been shot only once. And with a tranquilizer dart at that. But now, as the hours have crawled by and Duo has not regained consciousness, they begin to wonder...

"It's likely the commander used something other than the common UESA approved sedatives." Heero doggedly resists glancing at his passengers in the back seat, but resentment makes his voice gruff. "If Zanoah were still standing and its occupants alive, we might have had a hope in hell of finding out what she dosed him with."

Trowa sighs. "Let it alone, Heero. I can't answer your questions."

Heero's eyes narrow and this time he does glance in the mirror at his Bond Brother. "Can't or won't?" he cruelly insists.

Through his teeth, Trowa tells him, "Can't, Yuy. I have no explanation as to what we experienced or why."

Glumly, Heero replies, "I think the why is self-explanatory."

Trowa looks up, a wary question in his shielded eyes.

By way of answer, Heero nods toward the still-limp figure draped across Trowa's lap and supported by his arms. "The bitch threatened Duo with a lethal dose of sedatives. She provoked you."

Trowa Barton blinks. "Can you hear yourself, Heero?" When Heero doesn't retract his implication, Trowa blurts, "Listen to what you're suggesting. There's no possible way that a person could–"

"You explain it, then! Because it sure as hell wasn't me, Barton!"

The silence that follows seems even more powerful than Heero's outburst. And because Trowa has no way to explain the phenomenon they'd experienced as they stood on the verge of capture within Zanoah, he says nothing.

Instead, he pulls his mobile phone from where he'd stowed it in the mesh pocket behind Heero's seat. He checks the display and notes that – finally – he has reception. Breathing a sigh of relief, he speed dials Wufei's number, hoping he can make arrangements for Wufei to meet them. Hopefully with Sally and some medical supplies as well.

But he's informed that the number he's dialed is out of service.

So he resigns himself to a longer wait with another discouraged sigh.

"If he doesn't wake up within the hour, we're going to find a secure location and check him ourselves," Heero insists.

Trowa doesn't answer, although he wants to. But he knows Heero is well aware of the fact that neither he nor Trowa have the equipment or the expertise to accurately assess Duo's condition. It is – in fact – a measure of Heero's profound fear of losing Duo that he suggests such a potentially dangerous action at all. And because Trowa shares that fear, he does not bother to refute him.

**End of Chapter Three**


	4. Four

**Relinquish the Soul**

A Gundam Wing Fan Fiction by The Manwell

Sequel to _Savor the Darkness_

**- Four -**

**The rage, **the hunger, never leaves him. It rolls and twists in constant need, pushing against his skin with relentless, fiery friction. Slithers through his mind. Consumes him.

When he'd eliminated the threat of the Bedouin, he'd hoped their life force would assuage the hunger at least until he'd reached his objective. But he can feel it – hear it – roaring in protest at the loss of power it has suffered. Too late, he understands that once the hunger has been lulled, it will never be satisfied with anything less. Too late, he realizes that even if he feeds forever, it will never be fulfilled.

But he cannot feed. Not here. Not now. He needs Wufei alive and well and capable of leading him to the others. To Duo.

Duo.

Behind the dark sunglasses, his eyes narrow. He can feel the distance between them slowly lessening, but the closer he draws the weaker Duo's energy becomes. The darkness within him wants to growl aloud at the inexorable feeling of this one person slipping through his fingers and flowing effortlessly out of his grasp.

He will not allow it.

If there is one thing the wars and the Bedouin have taught him, it is determination. Unwavering tenacity. He will find Duo. Nothing will prevent him from evening the score between them. Not Heero Yuy nor Trowa Barton nor even Wufei. They will all yield to his will in this matter.

They must.

Any other options they might desire have all been burned away by the relentless momentum of their lives. Yes, there is no turning back. There is only the nebulous uncertainty of the future. The end looming ever closer.

And Quatre Reberba Winner will be there. Without a doubt, he _will_ be there.

The vampire hides a smile behind a bland, tired expression and threads the tense silence with another suggestion to try calling the others again.

And as he observes Wufei's compliance, he closes his eyes and savors the taste of the man's freely given frustration and fear. Such bitter but such rich emotions. It's a shame to waste them, really.

And Wufei need never know that even now he's feeding the darkness within a young man who he had once counted as one of his trusted comrades. Unless, of course, the vampire desires to tell him.

But, no, not now. Perhaps later. Perhaps after Duo has been... _dealt with_ he will share this subtle betrayal. And until then he will resign himself to appearing helpless and in need of Wufei's guidance. Yes, for now he will follow and he will wait.

For if there's one thing this vampire has mastered, it's the art of waiting.

oooOOOooo

**Intelligence Agent Riley** has seen a lot of truly horrifying things in his lifetime. He'd lived through war, after all. And now he's a Preventer. Investigating the horrible things human beings can do to each other is his job. Usually, it doesn't get to him.

But Zanoah... _This_ gets to him.

"Sir?"

The shaky voice of one of his junior agents brings him back to the task at hand. Drawing a deep breath, he turns to address his team. "All right everyone. Let's start with locating an intact black box. You've already been briefed on the fact that Zanoah was outfitted with a dozen of these devices. The odds are good that we'll find one in its entirety. Morely, Walker, set up the locator equipment and begin scanning the area using the serial codes in your reports. Arelli, Chrisstoff, get the sensors positioned. We need to know if there are any survivors. Let's go, people."

The sudden flurry of activity is a relief. Riley knows that later, after the situation has been evaluated, he'll need a moment alone. But right now, he has a job to do.

oooOOOooo

**It's a bad idea,** but Trowa Barton has lost the ability to protest. He cannot look into the icy eyes of his companion and ignore the barely restrained fear and burgeoning pain. He cannot prevent Heero Yuy from doing whatever he feels he must to bring their Keeper back to them.

As the Jeep rolls to a halt, Trowa briefly tightens his hold on Duo's still limp body. Only the so very faint puff of breath against his jaw tells him Duo is still alive. Alive, but weakening. With every periodic measurement of their leader's pulse, Trowa has felt it fading a little at a time. And for the first time in memory, Trowa is afraid.

"How is he?" Heero asks, unbuckling his seatbelt.

Trowa shakes his head and forces his voice to remain steady as he relates Duo's condition. He thinks he's successful at preventing the anxiety from coloring his voice but then Heero pauses in the act of opening his door and tells him: "We aren't going to lose him, Trowa. It's not going to happen."

Trowa doesn't have an answer to that. He wants to believe, but the faith crumbles to dust when he turns his attention to the unconscious man in his arms. He listens to Heero's boots crunching in the dirt and stones outside as he circles the vehicle. Here, in the shadow of a looming rock formation in the middle of the desert, they are well-hidden but that fact provides little comfort.

He finds himself murmuring into Duo's ear as Heero begins rummaging for the first aid kit. God, how had it come to this? Why are they panicking like this? Why are they so lost without their Keeper? Is it The Oath? Or something more?

"I knew I should have deleted that fucking assignment."

The muttered words tumble over the partition supporting the back seat and into Trowa's ears. He turns his head slightly and replies, "Don't, Heero. Focus on Duo now."

"I know! I _know_! I _am_! _God_ _damn_ _it_!"

Trowa's eyes drift closed as he listens to Heero shove aside various supplies with far more force than is strictly necessary. It's futile for him to wish none of this had ever happened, but he cannot stop the ardent thought.

"Finally."

Trowa glances over his shoulder and watches Heero rip the plastic wrapping off of a sterilized hypodermic needle. With a shiver of dread dancing down his spine, Trowa watches Heero lift a shatterproof vial of stimulant. As the needle fills, Trowa finds his voice.

"Heero, we have no idea what that could do to him."

"So _now_ you have a bright idea, Barton?"

"Don't growl at me, Yuy. I'm as concerned as you."

The glower deepens. "So what do you propose?"

"Duo needs professional assessment. We could conceivably do him even greater harm if we try to revive him ourselves."

Jaw clenched, Heero bites out, "And _watching_ him die a little bit with every breath is better? We don't have the _luxury_ of a professional assessment, Barton."

"So by all means, let's rush headlong into action and damn the consequences."

Eyes narrowed, Heero spits out, "You're right of course. What was I thinking? Let's have a fucking sing-along over his dying body while we wander around looking for a hospital!"

"Shut up, Yuy!"

Heero opens his mouth to retort, but the sudden, faint sound of engines drawing nearer stays his words. It's into this moment of fragile hesitance, that both Heero and Trowa take note of the deep tire tracks they've left in their wake and the lack of any breeze to erase them.

And Trowa hopes it's only his imagination that makes the soft purr of the approaching vehicle seem to have suddenly turned into an ominous roar.

oooOOOooo

**He is trapped** in the darkness. A darkness unlike anything he has ever known.

The young man who calls himself Duo Maxwell struggles, thrashes in the ever-night that has become his world. His Owned need him. He knows this. Its taste is a bitter tang on his tongue, a wrenching pain beneath his sternum, a restless spinning of his normally solid sense of balance.

He is _needed._

And yet he cannot _go_ to them.

_Unforgivable._

But Heero and Trowa will forgive him. They must. They need him too much to turn away from him.

But Duo will never forgive himself.

And the bonds of Ownership will never let him forget this failure.

Even now, he feels himself sinking steadily, relentlessly into the numbing quicksand clinging to his soul. And all the wishing in the world isn't going to save him now. Never mind that those foolish prayers of his had seemed to save him on countless occasions during the war. Never mind that he'd give every one of them in exchange for a solid minute of wakefulness now. Never mind that he'd beg for it if only he could summon the energy to do so.

He listens to Trowa's voice and hears the broken hope, the shattered confidence.

He listens to Heero's voice and hears the impotent rage, the escalating fear.

He listens and he knows he is failing them.

And even now, their words are blurring, fading. And he wonders if it is they who are moving further away... or himself?

Perhaps it doesn't matter, either way.

Trapped in the dark, Duo refuses to give up. He reaches out, out, _out_ to the one person he knows will never fail to hear him...

And in a silver vehicle roaring over the coarse desert sand and shrapnel-like gravel, a soft gasp sounds moments before the recipient of Duo's cry for help goes completely slack behind the wheel. Chang Wufei is deaf to Quatre's startled shout as the car issues a sickening shudder and starts to swerve.

**End of Chapter Four**


	5. Five

**Relinquish the Soul**

A Gundam Wing Fan Fiction by The Manwell

Sequel to _Savor the Darkness_

**- Five -**

"**Hey, Wuffers.** Fancy meeting you here."

Wufei scowls at the image of his obviously exhausted former comrade. "Maxwell?"

"The one and only, dude."

Crossing his arms over his chest, Wufei inquires blandly, "What's the occasion?"

"I need one? When the hell did that happen?"

Wufei feels a frown pull itself deeper into his face. "Is there a point to this little visit?"

Duo snorts. "Yeah, as a matter of fact, there is. You might remember our acquaintances, Heero Yuy and Trowa Barton?"

"Vaguely," he replies very, very dryly. "What about them?"

"Well, they're in pretty deep shit about five klicks north of here and I'm not in any condition to help them out."

"And why the hell is that, Maxwell?"

"Actually, I'm not really sure, but some serious sedatives were involved. Pesky little bastards, those."

A faint tickle of unease teases the back of Wufei's mind in response to those words. "Maxwell..." he begins, feeling his way slowly through his intuition's misty warning.

"Still practicing my name, eh, Wufei? It's nice to know you're such a perfectionist."

"Maxwell," Wufei addresses him, ignoring his comrade's previous comment, "You're speaking to me in another vision, aren't you?"

"You betcha. And if I don't let you get back to driving, you're gonna crash your shiny new babe-magnet."

Wufei stiffens at the jolt of recognition. "Quatre..."

"Is gonna be pissed as hell you almost creamed him all over the desert. Good luck, buddy. But, better you than me, ya know?" And with a wide but tired grin, Duo says, "Later, Wu-man."

oooOOOooo

"**Shit!"**

The return to the here and now is an ocean of ice-cold water engulfing Wufei Chang. He fights the instinctive urge to battle against the spinning car and forces himself to ease up on the accelerator rather than stomping on the brake. It's an infinite instant of mind-numbing, heart-pounding existence.

And when the car finally rocks to gentle halt, all of its tires miraculously un-punctured by the stones and spines of dead cacti littered across the landscape, Wufei can think of nothing to say to his very, very silent passenger. In the end, it's Quatre who speaks first:

"Have a nice trip?"

Wufei swallows once and forces his own tone to lighten until it matches Quatre's _seemingly_ amicable inquiry. "Yes, thank you. The weather was very pleasant."

"Hm" is Quatre's contemplative reply and in a dangerously conversational tone, continues: "How fortunate for you. I seldom encounter enjoyable weather in La La Land."

Sensing the barely-restrained anger in Quatre's voice, Wufei attempts, "Quatre, I –"

"Should have mentioned the fact that you're prone to spontaneous psychic spells beyond your voluntary control _before_ we found ourselves trapped in a vehicle traveling well beyond one hundred kilometers an hour over a highly unstable surface being tossed about like so much salad nicoise?"

All of this is delivered very, very calmly and therein Wufei discovers a source of easily-distinguishable unease. Preventer Agent Chang chooses his next words very, very carefully.

He clears his throat as quietly as is humanly possible and says, "For your own safety, I would appreciate it if you would drive the remainder of the distance, Quatre."

"It's not _my _safety you should be concerning yourself with, Chang."

"I am, nonetheless."

Tilting his head to one side, Quatre gathers a breath meant for an angry reply, but then pauses and Wufei's words seem to sink through the haze of shock and fury. And then, unbelievably, Quatre _smiles._

"You, my friend, are far more proficient at defusing hostile situations than I had previously given you credit for."

The smile softens until Wufei discovers the breath he'd been holding hostage and, startled at his own tension, releases it in a manner he hopes is unobtrusive.

"You surprise me, Wufei Chang."

"Today seems to be the day for them," Wufei replies dryly.

A soft chuckle vibrates sensually in the back of Quatre's pale throat. "The confirmation of your extraordinary abilities not the least among them."

Wufei blinks. "I beg your pardon?"

With a smile that's too gleeful to be innocent, Quatre leans forward and says, "So it's my turn to drive?"

"I would appreciate it," Wufei acknowledges, knowing his own questions will have to wait until they are underway once more. Swiftly, he steps out of his side of the car and rounds the vehicle to the passenger side. Through the smoky, angled glass of the windshield, he glimpses the lithe motions of Quatre's slender form as he lifts himself over the awkward space between the seats and settles himself in the driver's seat. Wufei tells himself the ghost of a shiver he feels tempting his skin is from the adrenalin-induced sweat still cooling on his skin.

The engine revs hungrily as Wufei slides into Quatre's vacated seat and slams the door shut behind him. "North," he directs. Buckling his seat belt, Wufei watches Quatre's fingers wrap around the gear shift and deftly maneuver it into first. The car manages 0 to 100 in record time. "And the abilities of mine you mentioned. Would you care to finish that thought now?"

"How many kilometers do I have to break the news to you?"

"Five."

"Right. So, blunt it is then."

"I would prefer candor at this point."

"Okay." Quatre grins, glancing momentarily from the terrain to Wufei's face. "You're a medium."

For a long moment, only the sounds of the car's engine and the displaced sand fill the silence. And then:

"What?"

"A medium," Quatre repeats, smiling. "A clairvoyant, a psychic, a seer, diviner, telepathist. Those are all the synonyms I can think of at the moment. Sorry."

"That's ridiculous. I've never –"

"Had a vision of the past or the future and taken steps to circumvent those events from manifesting further?" Quatre shakes his head. "Do I really have to remind you of what happened six months ago?"

Scowling, Wufei grunts, "No, you do not."

"You _knew_ Wufei. You _knew_ something had happened and _was_ happening between myself and Duo: two people who had been you allies but hardly dearest and closest friends. Are you going to tell me that's an ordinary occurrence for most people?"

Wufei runs a hand over his face before pressing the heel of it against the corresponding temple. "I don't wish to discuss this further, Winner."

He senses more than sees Quatre's shrug of indifference. "So be it. We're coming up on five kilometers..."

Wufei trains his eyes to the landscape surrounding them and is surprised to see absolutely nothing aside from the monotonous march of sand, rock, and withered vegetation. Until the land suddenly rolls beneath them, diving into a concealed valley. And what he sees there...

"Well, this day just got a _whole _lot more interesting, didn't it, Wufei?" Quatre muses beside him, a wide grin stretching his lips.

Wufei Chang blinks once and opens his mouth to reply... only to be interrupted by the purring of his long-silent mobile phone.

oooOOOooo

**Rashid has** never been so thankful for the United Earth Sphere Disarmament as he is at this precise moment.

Still seated at the data terminal, Trowa Barton does not look up from the screen even as the shuttle door slams open and creaks wearily in accompaniment to Heero Yuy's departing footsteps. "If he'd had a gun, he would have shot you."

Rashid nods in silent agreement.

"You might want to be more tactful in how you break distressing news to him in the future."

"If I am blessed by Allah, then such an occasion will never arise," Rashid replies and senses an almost-grin from the young man. As they subside into silence once again, Rashid contemplates the time. It had been a risk to broadcast a short-wave radio message, but it had been necessary. Otherwise, Heero and Trowa would have disappeared with their debilitated Keeper rather than risk a confrontation with a potential enemy. Like the Preventers.

Rashid still finds it difficult to believe that Heero and Trowa had been responsible for the utter destruction of Zanoah. But when he'd found the words necessary to ask after the event, the edginess in the air between the two youths had only confirmed that impossibility as truth.

He knows that the Preventers will soon discover the ruins of Zanoah – if they have not already – and, with all of the resources at their disposal, will soon determine the identities of their primary suspects. Primary suspects who are now being aided by the Maguanaqs. Rashid knows it is only a matter of time before things will spiral out of control.

He risks a glance in the direction of the young man now laid out, unconscious, on a bunk in the shuttle barracks. He only hopes they have enough time to save Duo's life. The rest will fall into place if only that much is accomplished.

"It's a pretty good strategy," Trowa finally comments on the Bedouins' foiled plan and interrupting Rashid's anxious contemplation. "But it hinges on the fact that they'll need Quatre's and Duo's willing compliance." Trowa shakes his head. "They made a serious tactical error in underestimating them."

"One that proved fatal," Rashid comments.

Trowa tenses in his seat. "What?"

It occurs to Rashid that Trowa Barton has no way of knowing the fate of the Bedouin. He describes the tombs in the desert.

"All Quatre's doing," Trowa finishes in a tone Rashid cannot classify. "If he'd used his abilities a few years ago, there never would have been a war."

"Perhaps, to a certain extent, he did," Rashid counters.

Trowa Barton tilts his head to one side, silently acquiescing the point. After another moment, his gaze finally leaves the screen and Rashid finds himself staring into a single green eye. "If Duo really is a Dreamwalker and if the Bedouin knew he would seek them out for guidance because he's not capable of maintaining an Owning, then how were they planning to right the situation?"

"It is my understanding that you and Master Heero – Master Duo's Owned – must request that the ritual be dissolved. As your Keeper, Master Duo will sense your sincerity in this and will have to respect your request. After that, he'll have to rest a great deal in order to regain his strength."

"Simple expect for the fact that he shows no sign of waking."

Rashid nods. "Master Duo does not have the energy reserves to awaken as of yet. My brothers are working to find an answer to this dilemma."

"Are they also working on the second dilemma?" Trowa inquires softly.

"That being?"

"That Heero and I do not wish to be released from the Oath."

Rashid releases a long breath and lays a hand on the young man's shoulder. "For the sake of Master Duo's life, you must."

Trowa is silent for a customarily long pause.

"In the last twenty-four hours," he finally says softly, "I have realized – for the first time in my life – that there is a great chasm between knowing what is necessary and doing it." On a sigh, Trowa lowers his head to his hands and wonders aloud, "And how do I convince Heero of this when I am not prepared to face it myself?"

There is no answer to that question, so Rashid offers none. He remains mute and watches Trowa Barton pull himself to his feet. The air of resignation surrounding him is palpable and Rashid does not envy this young man the tasks he has ahead of him. No further comments are uttered between them. For these two warriors know there is only one way to deal with things that must be done, and that is to simply do them. No words of comfort exist that might ease the difficulty of necessity.

Still, Rashid does follow the young man to the shuttle door. And upon reaching that threshold, he is surprised to see Heero Yuy standing in the middle of the open dessert, squinting forcefully to the south, with a cell phone pressed to his ear.

oooOOOooo

**Agent Riley stares** down at the fifth black box to be located since their arrival on the site. He stares and swallows back the rising fist of his disappointment as he regards the remains of twisted steel. These data caches had been constructed to withstand extreme temperatures. Temperatures well beyond what accelerator-fed fires could produce. And yet these containers had been melted. They sit like five wilted pieces of bitter chocolate taffies that have been forgotten and left beneath the rear window of a car for the duration of an entire summer. Riley knows there is no way anyone will be able to salvage the data therein.

What possible explosive or accelerant could have caused such impossible damage? Only the event of a small sun crashing into this base could have produced the amount of heat necessary to accomplish this destruction.

"I thought these boxes were made to withstand even the detonation of nuclear warheads. What's going on here, sir?"

Agent Riley meets the eyes of one of his fellow agents. The man himself is soot-smudged and his emergency uniform looks the worse for wear. "I'm sure there's an explanation, Agent Walker. We'll get these back to HQ forensics and get an answer to that."

The man nods wearily before turning his gaze back in the direction of the felled fortress. Riley knows that bleak look. He knows he wears the mirror image of it himself. This formidable structure had not only been utterly and instantaneously obliterated, but it had also taken every single life within its walls. He knows it will take much more man-power than his team can provide to sift through the debris for human remains, but that is not their job here today.

Riley turns to Walker and says, "You've outdone yourself locating these five boxes by yourself. Take a break."

Walker shakes his head, but the gesture is slow and laborious. "I'm all right, sir."

"I insist, Walker. Arelli and Chrisstoff are giving Morely a hand now. We'll find another box within the hour.

The junior agent hesitates, but nods reluctantly. Just as he begins to move toward the vehicles for a bit of bottled water and shade, one of his fellow agents cries out, "Sir! We've found another one! And it looks to be in tact!"

Relieved, Agent Riley's complete attention is focused on the approaching agent and the sooty but perfectly square black box in his hands. He does not notice the sudden tension that stiffens Walker's shoulders. Nor does he hear the sharp exhalation of frustration expelled from the man's lungs.

**End of Chapter Five**


	6. Six

**Relinquish the Soul **

A Gundam Wing Fan Fiction by The Manwell

Sequel to _Savor the Darkness_

**- Six - **

**It's just as well** Quatre had discovered and identified some heretofore unacknowledged diplomatic quality in Wufei Chang... because the instant Heero identifies the driver of Wufei's sleek, grey car, diplomacy is all that keeps the other man from emptying his entire weapon of sedative darts into the dusty but otherwise unblemished sculpture that is what Duo had so-recently termed a "babe-magnet."

"What in the hell is he doing here?"

Those words, so dangerous in their equally weighted, softly spoken growl, appeal to Wufei's survival instincts.

"He's here because he's necessary, Yuy. He turned up just after the three of you had left on assignment and I couldn't very well leave him in my apartment. Without people to boss around, I was concerned Winner would chew on the furniture. Where's Duo?"

The abrupt demand elicits the truth effectively; a soldier never refuses a comrade necessary information. "In the shuttle with the Maguanaqs."

"He said something about a sedative to me. What's his condition?"

Heero blinks and transfers his attention from the still-seated Quatre. Focusing on Wufei, he seethes, "How could you know about the sedatives?"

"I had another vision. Several, actually. Duo has been calling for help since just after you started out for Zanoah."

"That's ridiculous. He was fine. Better than he'd been in months."

"I'm sure he had to be. You were about to enter hostile territory. How did you expect him to seem, Yuy?"

Heero glares his answer.

"I repeat: What is his condition?"

In short, clipped sentences, Heero relates his Keeper's relentlessly weakening state.

"You have to dissolve the Oath."

Both Heero and Wufei look toward the car where Quatre Reberba Winner now leans against the roof in the open doorway.

"I told you not to move," Wufei reminds him sternly just as Heero nearly shouts, "No one, the least of all you, will _tell_ me what I _have to_ do!"

"Don't eviscerate him, Heero," Trowa advises in a tightly controlled voice. He finishes his previously unobserved approach to the group and touches his shoulder to Heero's. "Facts are facts. Independent of the source. Unfortunately."

Wufei's eyes narrow at the hostility these two are deliberately pouring on Quatre. "Do we have time for your little temper tantrums? I was under the impression that Duo's life is in danger."

Heero counters, "As long as Winner's in the vicinity, _that_ is certainly the case."

"Don't insult my abilities, Heero. I could have killed him as easily from the middle of the desert as I could if I were standing right next to him."

"For all we know, you have _been_ killing him for the last six months!"

"And for all you know, I've been feeding him energy to keep him from having to contact the Bedouin as soon as they'd predicted he would!"

"Were you?" Heero demands.

Quatre frowns and crosses his arms over his chest. "No. I couldn't have. I was too volatile. And I was unaware of the Bedouin's plan to acquire Duo until only two weeks ago. That's when I sent for Rashid and the others. But, obviously, I was unable to wait until they'd arrived."

Trowa observes, "I'm sure it was much more gratifying for you to kill every single one of them yourself."

Quatre grins. His dark sunglasses flash in the waning sunlight. "Actually, yes, it was."

It happens in an instant. Wufei sees the flash of something bright and fierce in Trowa's eyes. Something so wild he can feel the air crackle with heat around the man. As he turns back to the car, he's just in time to see Quatre leap clear of it immediately before the remaining fuel in the tank explodes.

Wufei has never been a big fan of pop culture action films. After living through a war and having witnessed _real_ violence, he has never had a need for the obviously fake, dramatization of it. The explosion of his new and still-beloved car is therefore something he cannot compare to modern movie pyrotechnics, but he _can _compare it to his memories from the war.

And he finds that there is no comparison. The fire consuming the shiny, new addition to his seldom-indulged adrenalin addiction burns hotter and brighter and taller than it has any right to. Even after the fuel is rapidly exhausted, it persists. It _rages._ It melts and twists the metal. The windshield itself boils.

Wufei is still struggling to find his voice when Heero, still staring into the flames, speaks with absolute finality: "You will explain yourself now, Trowa Barton."

"He doesn't have to," Quatre replies very calmly from where he's picking himself up off of the rocky sand. "It should be fairly obvious."

Heero ignores Quatre and stares hard at Trowa. Wufei is the one who growls, "What is fairly obvious?"

Voice void of conceit or satisfaction or even awe, Quatre says, "He's a djinn. A firestarter."

Trowa himself says nothing. He simply turns and walks away.

oooOOOooo

**"I could use** some good news, people," Agent Riley directs his team as they plug the last connecting wire into the single in-tact black box they'd discovered.

The computer screen mounted in the back of the solid black and otherwise unremarkable field van flickers. "We live to serve," Arelli assures him as the agent types in the access codes. The screen flashes blue and the precious phrase CONNECTION... ACCEPTED precedes the equally precious SYSTEM ONLINE.

"Yes..." Riley hisses under his breath. "Morely, set up the satellite connection. We need to download this data to HQ _immediately._"

"Yes, sir."

"Er, sir, shouldn't we attempt to decrypt it ourselves first? After all, the suspects might still be in the vicinity and within our powers to apprehend..."

Riley doesn't turn his gaze away from the screen to answer Walker's question. "No, we should not. This data is for Director Une alone. We'll act on her directive _after_ it has been given."

"But the suspects –"

"Cannot hide indefinitely, Agent. After HQ decodes the visual surveillance files, we'll likely have a positive ID. There's nowhere on the Earth or in the Colonies where they can escape."

"Sir, satellite hook-up is online and ready."

"Code the data and send it, Agent Arelli." Riley smiles for the first time today. "With any luck, we'll have an answer to this mystery within the hour. In the meantime, let's repack our gear and get mobile again."

oooOOOooo

**"Thank you** for your assistance, Wufei."

Wufei glances away from the open shuttle door and furious conversation that must be happening just over that distant threshold. But at least Heero and Trowa had agreed to consider Quatre's offer of help. Wufei arcs a brow at his companion and states blandly, "Am I under a false impression? Are you not the one who can return Duo to consciousness, if only for a few moments?"

Quatre's smile is wan. "Yes, that's me all right. But I couldn't have gotten to this point without you. And not just for the mediating you've been doing. After the vision you had at Zanoah and you allowed me to transfer a little energy to you… Well, at least now I know it's possible."

"What is possible?" Wufei demands and instant before the truth hits him. "You mean... back at the base... that was your first time to try _giving_ energy to another person?"

Quatre hums affirmatively.

"Son of a _bitch!_" Wufei hisses. "Damn it, Quatre. You could've–"

"Now just hold on a minute!" Quatre interrupts firmly. "Let's just get one thing straight here: I'd turn my power onto myself before I'd ever hurt you again. So you can just–"

"Would you just shut up and let me finish, you impossible brat?" Wufei thunders. "That energy transfer was a supremely stupid thing to do without a mentor present because you might have hurt_ yourself!_ And what good would that have done me – lying unconscious amidst smoking ruins in the middle of the desert? And what good would it have done Duo? You completely self-sacrificing zealot! You never think of the consequences of your own actions, at least where your own welfare is concerned!"

A long moment of silence settles around them, punctuated with the soft puffs of breath resulting form Wufei's elevated respiration. Eventually, Quatre softly asks, "Are you done?"

"No," Wufei grinds out. "You ought to have more care for your own health. Despite what you may believe or how they may be behaving at the present, your old friends do still hold you in high regard and would be saddened should any harm come to you."

"Do you really believe that, Wufei?"

"Why wouldn't I? I _can_ speak for myself, after all." He glares hotly at the object of his seemingly eternal frustration and, even with the obstacle of those damned sunglasses, he can read the young man's shock.

"You... you still..." Pausing, Quatre swallows before forcing the remainder of his sentence out. "Still respect me? Even after...?"

Wufei is not comfortable having this conversation, but he knows it is necessary. Quatre needs to hear this, especially in light of what must happen if Duo is to have any chance of survival. Communicating his sincerity with his gaze as well as his voice, Wufei says, "I have _always_ respected you Quatre Winner. And I now have even _more_ respect for you _because_ of what you have endured and conquered these last few months. I know no one else who would be capable of surviving such an ordeal with his honor intact, as I believe you have done."

He pauses a moment to allow Quatre a chance to comment, but the other man's silence provokes: "Or am I wrong about you, Quatre Winner? Are you only manipulating me for your own personal gain?"

That softly spoken inquiry jars Quatre to reply, "No, no, I'm not using you, Wufei. Not like that. Although… I have been, ah… feeding on your, uh… emotional tension."

Wufei snorts. "Better that than to let it go to waste."

"Wu_fei_! You're not listening to me. In order to control the hunger, I must also give into it. I must compromise constantly. To save a friend, I must promise it prey. I've _never _been able to tame the hunger. It's always there. It twists my thoughts. Heero and Trowa are right: it… _I_ see Duo as a target. Sometimes, I get so caught up in it, I…almost forget…"

Wufei studies the anxious young man before him. After a moment of consideration, he says, "Perhaps it would be to your advantage to articulate what it is you fear forgetting. Perhaps, in telling me, it will not be so easy for the hunger to distract you from it in the future."

Quatre nods. "A good idea." He draws a deep breath and gathers his thoughts. "Duo is my friend and I have to help him. I mean, I _was_ angry with him at first, but I soon realized how very much I owe him. He placed himself in great danger to save me from causing irreparable damage to the people I love the most. I never would have forgiven myself if I'd taken the soul of a friend. It would have killed what little humanity I would've had left. And Duo saved me from that."

"I understand," Wufei replies, laying a hand on Quatre's shoulder. "And I apologize for not being there when you needed an ally these last few months. I am sorry you were left alone to face that madness."

"It's all right, Wufei. It's as you say: I survived it. And maybe I had to endure it alone. A sort of test of my integrity. And if I'd never faced it, I'd always wonder if my nature was truly that of a dark, parasitic monster…"

"Say no more, Quatre. That creature you'll never be. And I know this because I know you. I know my _friend._ And although he is not an angel, he is all the more inspiring because of it." In answer to the slight confusion Wufei senses in Quatre's silence, he elaborates, "You are only a man, as fallible as the rest of us, but you do not allow these failings to become your excuse to cease striving for anything less than perfection in word, deed, and thought. Your immovable faith in the existence of goodness in this world inspires all who know you to be better people."

"And you truly believe this, don't you?" Quatre whispers, amazed.

"I believe it is sufficient to say that I believe in you, Quatre Winner."

Daringly, Quatre grasps Wufei's hand as it starts to slip from his shoulder. "And I swear I'll do my utmost to give you no reason to doubt me again."

Wufei smiles. "Welcome back, Quatre. You've been missed."

Still holding his hand, Quatre returns the sincere smile and says, "Thank you, Wufei. It's good to be back."

oooOOOooo

**In what he suspects** will become an unfortunate habit, Wufei places himself between the combined force consisting of Heero and Trowa and the pale vampire leaning over Duo's inert form. His attention periodically attempts to drift in Trowa's direction, as the question of exactly what a djinn is has not yet been addressed. But his first duty is to protect Quatre from Heero and Trowa and, if necessary, protect Duo from Quatre. He knows that Heero and Trowa are both unconvinced of Quatre's sincerity and stability, but they have little choice. Even by shuttlecraft, the nearest hospital is hours away. Duo will not last that long.

Quatre settles himself on the floor next to the bunk. "It may happen quickly, Wufei," he warns.

"I am ready."

With a small nod, Quatre closes his eyes, exhales, and presses his hand against Duo's forehead. For an instant, Wufei thinks he glimpses something menacingly predatory in Quatre Winner's expression, but then it is gone. And then Quatre and the bunk and the shuttle are gone.

"Wufei!"

The exclamation pulls Wufei through to the other side of an explosion of light and silence.

"Wufei!"

"I'm here!" he manages to shout back. And with those words, his quarry materializes before him.

"Man, you have no idea how bad it sucks here. And I'm totally missing the MacGyver re-runs."

Wufei ignores this complaint. "Duo, Quatre is here now. He will help you regain your strength for a short time."

Duo nods. Under normal circumstances Wufei would expect him to appear both wary and hopeful at the mention of their exceptional comrade, but now he is too tired for that. "Thank him for me, if I can't."

"I will," he promises.

"So it's that bad, huh? I won't have any time to spare for a round of thanks?"

Wufei nods. "You must use all of your energy to dissolve the Oath."

Duo sighs. "So it _is_ the Oath that's sucked the life outta me. Did I screw it up when I invoked it?"

"No, my friend. The ritual was perfect. It is you whose nature is unsuited to the bonds of Ownership. The Bedouins did not warn you of this because they hoped to gain an advantage from your weakness. I am sorry."

"Me, too. So, I've gotta dissolve it, eh? Have you talked to Heero and Trowa about this?"

"And have narrowly escaped with my life."

Duo smiles. "Finally, a joke. I should have known you'd wait until I was dying."

"You will not die. You will rest. You will recover. And when you can, you will return to those who care deeply for you. Are you ready?"

"Just make sure Trowa and Heero are."

"They have prepared themselves. Their greatest wish is for you to live, and since that requires the dissolution of the Oath, they wholeheartedly wish for that also."

"Then let's get this over with, Wufei."

Wufei lingers a moment longer to study the spirit of his friend. "You will be well and with us again, Duo Maxwell."

A small, lopsided smile is his reward for those words. "You can bet on it, Wuffers."

Wufei is nearly smiling when he opens his eyes. He looks at Heero and Trowa and nods. It is time. He looks at Quatre, kneeling beside the bunk, and says, "He's ready."

A soundless drumbeat pulses through the air, penetrating sternums and aching hearts. It does not occur to Wufei that this is the wake of the energy with which Quatre has infused Duo's body until Duo opens his bright eyes and smiles.

"Heero. Trowa." His voice is quiet, but strong. "Wufei tells me there's something important you want and that, as your Keeper, I must give you. Tell me."

For a moment, no replies are forthcoming. All of the words are still hopelessly tangled up in their guts. But then Trowa steps forward.

"I wish to be free of the Oath, Duo."

Heero manages. "As do I, Duo."

Duo smiles. "So it shall be done. I free you both from my protection. Go and prosper and remember what we once shared. Draw upon the memory of our combined strength and find peace."

The young man on the bunk takes a deep breath and releases it.

"It is done."

"Yes, it is," Trowa confirms. Wufei turns toward him and is startled by the intensity of profound loss emanating from every line of his body.

"We are free," Heero declares, his body a dangerously taut capsule for all of his emotions.

"All righty, then," Duo says. "I gotta go now. But I'll be in touch." Briefly, a beautiful, luminous grin lights his features and then he is gone.

Quatre groans and slumps forward against the bunk. And Wufei is there to catch him. He thinks nothing of wrapping his arms around the shivering, shuddering young man. It is the fulfillment of some deep, unacknowledged need when he hears himself whisper, "Take from me what you require. I care for you and this is not a great burden for me."

"You forget," Quatre rasps. "I am _still_ a monster. The hunger will never be satisfied. It almost overtook me when I placed my hand on Duo. It _burns_ for … for _souls_."

Wufei deliberately focuses on his feelings for the amazingly gifted man in his arms. "And you did not give in to it. You are no monster. You are my friend, Quatre Winner. Honorable and strong."

Quatre gasps. The color swiftly returns to the young man's features and Wufei can only guess it is the influx of his own freely offered emotions which are the cause. "You would have me be more than that," Quatre marvels. "I can _feel_ it."

"You speak of something which I am unable to deny."

A small, tenuous smile plays across Quatre's lips. "It appears that I am once again in Duo Maxwell's debt."

At the mention of Duo, Wufei redirects his gaze to the bunk.

It is empty.

"He is… gone," Wufei whispers.

"So you noticed?" Heero barks, his anger all but sparking in the air.

Trowa says nothing. He slouches onto the foot of the bunk and runs the palm of his hand over the place where Duo's feet had lain.

Wufei thinks, _There is a very long road ahead of us now._

A pale hand curls around his bicep and tightens its grasp. Wufei glances down and receives Quatre's slight nod. "Together," he says.

"Together," Wufei agrees.

A sound at the doorway draws their attention. Rashid gazes sadly at the empty bed and says, "A transmission has just gone out to every Preventer station on the Earth and in the colonies. The Preventers have identified Heero, Trowa, and…" In the awkward pause, Duo's name is left unspoken. "You are wanted for questioning with regards to the destruction of the Zanaoh Base. Unless you're interested in having that conversation, we must leave _now_."

Wufei replies, "Get ready for launch, Rashid. I'm sure you have a heading in mind."

Rashid nods once and disappears.

"So this is it. We run," Heero grinds out, his anger not yet spent but cooler now. Perhaps because the heat of it had been skimmed off by a slowly recovering empath.

"We do what we have to so that Duo will find us when he is ready," Wufei admonishes him.

Wordless, Trowa stands and strides from the room.

Quatre's fingers curl tighter around Wufei's arm. "We must help him. To be a djinn… it is not a power, but a curse. It will kill him if he cannot control it."

"Then we shall see to it that he does."

The shuttle engines begin their takeoff whine and the bulk of the craft lurches forward in a reluctant crawl. What path awaits them, Wufei does not know. But he knows that they must all face it.

"Together," Quatre repeats.

"Together," Wufei agrees.

oooOOOooo

**The view **from the Preventers van passenger window is bleak. And the future is equally so. He'd had this one chance to protect them. This one chance to extend their thankful anonymity. The Guardian had counted on him to complete this one, single mission. And he has failed.

_I am sorry, Trowa Barton. Now you must fall under the watchful eyes just as your comrades, Duo Maxwell and Quatre Winner, have. _

"You look a little tired, Agent Walker. Why don't you catch a nap on the way?"

Agent Walker does not look away from the bleak landscape. "Thank you, sir," he replies. He retreats from the world he has spent his entire life hiding within and he struggles to control the frustration that boils his blood. The hands that had held five of the base's black boxes curl into hot, tight fists.

"It's getting a little warm in here. Mind if I turn up the air?"

"Not at all," Walker mumbles.

The kilometers of baked road blur past and Walker struggles – as he has always struggled – to control the fire within.

**End of _Relinquish the Soul _**

**Author's Note:** Oh, bugger. This one's not conclusively finished, _either._ Damn it. Well, I guess you can expect me to start working on a fourth installment. _Witness the __Phoenix_… coming right up! (I hope.)


End file.
